


New Romance and Sweatpants

by imaddiegrace



Series: Wedding Rings and Shoestrings (The Series) [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Yoi - Freeform, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, crush confession, otabek atlin x yuri plisetsky, otayuri - Freeform, plibek, supper fluffy, the gayest thing i've written, this is the fluff fest i promised, yuri plisetsky is adorable in a dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaddiegrace/pseuds/imaddiegrace
Summary: Otabek Atlin had done the unimaginable, proposed to his best friend Yuri Plisetsky. Unfortunately, the only reason why they were getting married is to get Otabek Atlin a Russian visa so he could stay training with Yakov. As their relationship develops, the lines between friends and fiancees blend into a beautiful work of art that neither of them anticipated.





	

Otabek wasn’t quite sure how to act around Yuri now that they were technically engaged. Was he supposed to act romantic, or like friends? He wanted to flirt with Yuri, and now he supposed that was a good excuse for it. However, he didn’t want Yuri to think he was joking, because Otabek really did want to be with him. 

Yuri was taking off his skates and letting down his hair on the same bench he was near earlier. Yuri had somewhat claimed the bench, he was always using it when he was at the rink. The way Yuri claimed spaces reminded Otabek of a cat. 

“Hey kitten,” Otabek tried out the new name with a smirk. Yuri looked up in disgust. 

“Fuck no,” was all Yuri said, but Otabek couldn’t help but notice a slight blush invade his cheeks. Maybe Yuri didn't hate the nickname as much as he let on.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Yuri exhaled, slinging his skates into his bag and walking away, clearly expecting Otabek to follow. Otabek did follow, bringing his own bag with him as they walked through the doors into the parking lot. It was almost empty, save the few remaining cars that were there, and Otabek’s bike. Mila was getting into her car a few paces away from Yuri and Otabek, staring at her phone. She was probably texting her boyfriend, or Sara Crispino. Sara and Mila were really good friends, but rumors said that they were something more. Otabek wasn’t sure if he believed that, however it wouldn't be totally unlike Mila to cheat on her boyfriend.

Otabek and Yuri followed their usual after-practice bike routine, shoving their bags into the compartment behind the seat of the motorcycle, and Yuri getting on behind Otabek on the bike. Everything was the same, except Yuri didn’t wrap his arms around Otabek this time. 

“Yuri, If you don’t hold on to me, you’re going to fall off,” Otabek warned, kicking the kickstand and starting the engine. Yuri grumbled and embraced Otabek, barely holding on. Did the “proposal” make Yuri feel awkward around Otabek? He didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Otabek surged forward on the bike, causing Yuri to cling tighter to him. He liked the feeling of the smaller boy’s torso pressed against his back as he rode. Yuri often closed his eyes on the bike, his mind drifting off to a place unknown. He was probably thinking about cats.

They rode in silence as the sun glimmered in the sky, neither of them speaking about the gravity of the situation they currently were neck-deep in.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . .  
Yuri flicked the door open and switched on the lights to his and Otabek’s apartment. Although it was modest in size, the layout and colors were perfect. It had Otabek’s masculinity with the modern, simplistic design of the kitchen, table, and couch. It had Yuri’s personal touch in the fluffy rug in the living room and the light purple lanterns dangling from the ceiling in various areas. It was the perfect combination of the both of them. 

“Let’s hear this master plan of yours,” Yuri took off his jacket and plopped his bag on the counter. Otabek took in a shaky breath and set his bag next to Yuri’s. 

“It’s not exactly a full plan, but I thought that we could use our fame as a sort of way to get people to believe in our fake relationship,” Otabek said all too quickly. He hated the idea of it being a fake relationship. Yuri looked up at Otabek, sitting on the edge of the table in front of Otabek. He was trying to decipher what that meant.

“If we let all of our fans know that we’re, you know, engaged, then the immigration office will be less likely to kick me out, knowing that we have thousands of fans to testify our relationship. They can’t kick me out then, right?” Otabek finished, it sounded much better in his head than it did aloud. Yuri nods, reaching out and touching the fabric of Otabek’s sweatpants and pinching it between his pointer finger and thumb. Otabek pretended not to notice the shiver in his thigh as Yuri’s fingers brushed it through the material of his pants. 

“It’s a good start,” Yuri says, which is more credit than Otabek gave himself. “However, I want to add a few things,” Yuri looked up from the table where he was sitting and tugged on Otabek’s sweatpants. Otabek stepped forward, his hips meeting in contact with Yuri’s knees. 

“You’re going to take me to a nice dinner tonight. You’re going to go ring shopping with me, and you’ll propose in Mikhailovsky park in front of all our fans,” Yuri announces this with a persuasive and commanding tone. Otabek nods, noting the closeness between them. Did Yuri pull Otabek closer to him because Yuri liked him, or because they were getting “married”? Why was Yuri taking this marriage so lightly? It was almost as if he didn’t realize the meaning of it. Sure, they could get divorced after the Russian government gives him another visa, but then Yuri would be the teenager who was divorced. Did Yuri care at all about that?

“If this is going to work, we’re going to have to act like a real couple when we’re outside the house. You’re going to have to hold my hand, and tolerate pretending to like me,” Otabek says with the slightest of smiles, his head tilting down to be at a parallel angle to Yuri’s. 

“Ha! That’ll really test my acting skills. Acting like a couple with you,” Yuri scoffs. Otabek takes a step back, guarding his emotions behind locked doors. Nope! Back in the feelings box you go! Otabek was crestfallen, was Yuri really that repulsed to have to do this? Why was he helping Otabek at all? Otabek leaves the room promptly, walking towards his bedroom. As he walks, he allows his wall to drop, his sadness in plain view. 

Yuri’s eyes widen as Otabek leaves. Shit. Yuri didn’t mean it like that, he was joking. He didn’t want to hurt Otabek. 

“Beka, I didn’t mean that- Beka come back!” Yuri hops off the table and goes towards Otabek. He plants his feet in front of him so that he couldn’t reach his room. It was then that Yuri fully realized how much he had hurt his friend. Yuri noticed Otabek’s face before Otabek could try to hide it, unfortunately. 

“Beka, I’m sorry,” Yuri reaches out to touch Otabek’s cheek, but Otabek lightly pushes his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me because you pity me,” Otabek mumbles. Yuri’s eyes narrowed. 

“I didn’t touch you because I pity you, Beka. I have all of these-” Yuri gestures by wildly waving his hands, “-feelings that I don’t know how to express for you, and I don’t know how to show that I really like you more than I should. I don't know how to say that I actually love it when you call me kitten. I love it when we ride on your bike and stay up late talking about absolutely meaningless shit. I love the bags under my eyes after talking to you all night because it is a physical reminder as to how much I actually care about you…” Yuri trails off, leaving Otabek’s tongue dry. Yuri takes a deep breath looking shaky. 

“You have feelings for me?” Otabek asked, staring at Yuri with a newfound curiosity and intensity. 

“Shut up, Otabek. I know it’s pathetic. I just- I want to-” Yuri broke off, and Otabek gave him time to finish, listening closely. Yuri’s hand once again reached for Otabek’s face, and Otabek didn’t stop him. Yuri’s fingers brushed Otabek’s jawline, and cupped his cheek. “I want to do this, I want to touch you, but I know that you don't think of me like that,” Yuri finished. 

“Yura, how could you not know that I had a crush on you the size of fucking Russia?” Otabek asked in a low voice, his pupils dilated as he looked at Yuri. Yuri’s head raised, and he met Otabek’s eyes. Silently, Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek’s corded torso, and Otabek returned the embrace. Neither of them knew what this meant for their relationship, but both were willing to find out.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
Otabek took his instructions from Yuri very seriously about their date. He was dressed in a simplistic black suit with no tie and tiger print suspenders that he knew Yuri would adore. (He had bought them with Yuri in mind.) He knocked on Yuri’s bedroom door impatiently. 

“Yuuuraaa, are you ready?” Otabek asked, wishing that Yuri could see his smile through the door. Yuri opened the door, making Otabek’s jaw drop to the floor. Yuri was in a navy blue dress that cinched at his waist and flowed to the ground, the front of the dress’ hemline scooping up to expose right above Yuri’s knees in a stunning high-low wave. The neckline was cut so that Otabek could see Yuri’s prominent collarbones in plain view. He took Otabek’s breath away. 

“I know that it’s a dress, so if you don’t like it I can just change,” Yuri mumbled. His hair was half in a braid, half down. 

“No, Yuri. Don’t change out of the dress. You’re beautiful,” Otabek put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder, meaning everything he said. Clothing doesn’t have a gender, there was no need for him eto be worried. Yuri smiled at the compliment. 

“Thank you,” Yuri replied bashfully. Yuri linked his arm with Otabek’s in an old-fashioned manner. 

“Where are you taking me?” He asked as they walked outside of the apartment. Otabek liked the feeling of Yuri by his side. They had always walked side by side, both of them preferring the company of each other rather than walking alone.

“Percorso,” Otabek answered, probably butchering the name. Yuri looked up at him as they entered the elevator. 

“That place is really expensive, Beka,” Yuri said with worry. He didn’t want Otabek to feel like he had to spend an outrageous amount of money on him. 

“Of course it is. I would never forgive myself if I took you to anywhere else,” Otabek says as the elevator opens. They enter the bottom floor of their apartment complex, receiving smiles from the people in the room. Otabek wasn’t sure if they were smiling at them because they were famous skaters, or if it was because they were dressed up so nicely. They really made a beautiful couple. 

“And why is that?” Yuri asked Otabek. 

“No self respecting man would take his beautiful date to a sub-par restaurant,” Otabek explained as they exited the building. Yuri blushed furiously and punched his arm playfully. They walk towards Otabek’s motorcycle. 

“Is it okay to ride this? Dammit, I should’ve rented a car,” Otabek cursed, wishing he was more prepared. 

“No, it’s fine,” Yuri says, reaching for the helmets in the back compartment. He put on Otabek’s helmet for him; Yuri’s fingers brushing Otabek’s chin. He put on his own helmet, waited for Otabek to get on the bike, and hopped on behind him. 

“Are you sure?” Otabek asked. 

“Yes,” Yuri answered. “I want-” he paused, “-I want you to make my heart race,” Yuri spoke into Otabek’s ear. Otabek flushed, convincing himself that Yuri was obviously talking about the bike, and not anything else. Otabek started the engine and the bike raced forward with impeccable speed.

They sped (much faster than the speed limit) towards the restaurant. Yuri let out a howl of glee, the wind feeling amazing on his skin. Otabek sped further at his reaction, feeding off of Yuri’s positive energy. 

“Faster, Beka!” Yuri demanded loudly over the roar of the engine. Otabek sped up only slightly because he was concerned for Yuri’s safety. He didn't want Yuri to get injured. Otabek already had a running record of crashing motorcycles, and he didn't want this ride to be the sequel.

They reach the restaurant after a few more short minutes of gleeful riding. They put their helmets back, and walk hand in hand to the entrance, grinning like complete idiots. 

“Reservation for Plisetski-Atlin,” Otabek says to the hostess, earning a surprised glance from Yuri at the hyphenated name. Otabek had put Yuri’s name first, not only because it sounded better, but because Yuri always came first to him. 

The hostess looked from the two boys clasped hands to their grinning faces and made a disgusted expression. She spat something (presumably not anything nice) in Russian. Otabek couldn't make out what she said completely, but he caught “I” and “will not.” Yuri's face reddened in anger, and he yelled something in Russian so fervent that it scared Otabek. The hostess walked towards a nearby employee, saying something that Otabek could understand. 

“You take them.” 

The second employee walked over to them and apologized immensely, verified their reservation, and led them to a table in the front of the restaurant. Yuri was still fuming, much to the confusion of Otabek. They sat down at the table that had elegant plates and silverware.

“Yura, what's wrong? What did she say?” Otabek asked lightly. Yuri clenched his fists. 

“She said, ‘I will not serve faggots.’” Yuri's voice shook slightly when he spoke. 

“Yuri, it’s okay, she doesn't matter,” Otabek tried to reassure Yuri, not fazed by the language the waitress used.

“No, Beka, how can you not let this bother you? How can you let someone treat you like that?” Yuri asked. 

“I know that there was nothing we could do to prevent that. And I don't want to let her ruin our night.” Otabek wanted Yuri to be able to enjoy himself tonight. Although it didn't make him happy that the hostess used that slur at them, he knew that it wouldn't be the first time that he heard it. He despised the hostess for making Yuri so upset, but knew that that he had to be calm.

Yuri exhaled slowly, unclenching his fists. “I won't let her ruin this,” he says, visibly more calm. Otabek knew that Yuri got angry easily, so for him to simmer down so quickly must have meant that Yuri cared a lot about Otabek. Otabek reached across the table and laid his hand on top of Yuri’s, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. He wished that they didn't have to make their “relationship” public. He wished that they could keep it to themselves. Unfortunately, that was not an option. 

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, and the restaurant even paid for their meal because of the way they were treated. They walked with their arms linked outside of the restaurant, their cheeks pink with warmth and laughter. They decided to walk to the jewelry store instead of driving so they could take in the view of the city around them. Otabek hadn't been to the city often, and was delighted to be in the atmosphere. Even though Yuri had lived there for years, he had always been to busy to appreciate his surroundings until now. 

Yuri’s phone rang in Otabek’s blazer pocket (Yuri didn't have a pocket, so he put his phone in Otabek's jacket.) Yuri took it out and answered it, his expression mocking annoyance as he saw the caller ID. 

“Hello Victor,” he grumbled into the phone, wondering if it was bad etiquette to talk on the phone on a date. 

“YURIO! I saw that you were with Otabek in your Instagram! How's your date?” He asked the two. “Yuuri! Come here! Yurio is on the phone!” Victor yelled, distant from the microphone. 

“It's, um-” Yurio sneaked a glance at Otabek, and put the phone on speaker. “It's going great. You're on speaker.” 

“Yuuri and I just went to go see a movie. What was it called?” Yuri and Otabek heard some mumbling on the other side, accompanied by giggling and a “Stop, Victor, not now!” by Yuuri. Yuri didn't want to imagine what was going on on the other line. It would probably make him barf. 

“Actually, Victor, Bella and I are going shopping for something very important, so we kind of have to go,” Yuri mentions, trying to end the conversation. Victor often called Yuri to talk about nothing really important, but now was not the time. 

“What are you shopping for?” Yuuri asked on the other line. 

“Engagement rings,” Otabek chimed in, smiling at the thought. There was a silence on the other end, followed by a sharp inhale. 

“OTABEK ATLIN DO YOU HAVE THE INTENTIONS OF PROPOSING TO MY SON WITHOUT ASKING FOR PERMISSION?” Victor said angrily on the line. Yuri smacked his face with his hand at the outrageous question. 

“You're not his father,” Otabek says, amused. There was a crash on the other end, followed by reassuring coo’s in Yuuri Katsuki’s calming tone. 

“I was ROOTING for you Otabek! We were ALL rooting for you! And now you pull this shit on me? I’ve lost all trust in you, Otabek Atlin. You had better not hurt my son,” Victor yelled on the other line. Otabek’s face paled, thinking about what Victor might do to him. He wouldn’t hurt Otabek, would he? Yuri hung up the phone and slid it back into Otabek’s pocket. 

“That geezer is so annoying,” Yuri grumbled, offering his hand to Otabek. Otabek took his hand and laced it with his own. 

“He cares about you a lot,” Otabek remarked a little uneasily, as they reached the front of the jewelry store. “Are you ready for this?” Otabek asked, focusing back on the matter at hand. He would apologize to Victor later. Yuri nodded, and they walked in. 

Otabek was overwhelmed by all of the choices at first, the seemingly endless amount of cases that lined the walls. Yuri’s eyes gleamed with excitement, and he dragged Otabek over to where the rings were.

They spent a few minutes in silence, looking at the rings. Otabek's heart pounded in his chest, he still couldn't believe he was getting married. It was a surreal situation, he had always want to get married at some point, but that's all it had been. At some point. He hadn't expected that point to come so suddenly and without much warning. He hadn't even properly dated Yuri before they got “engaged.” 

Otabek pointed out a ring to the right of them, in the shape of a lion’s head. It had emeralds for eyes, and was extremely tacky. “This would be great for you,” he teased. 

“We’re not getting that ring, it's a joke,” Yuri scoffs. But wasn't their marriage a joke? Perhaps Yuri didn't think it was a joke at all.

Otabek’s eyes locked on a ring that was near the back of the case. It was a simple, thin silver band with two crescent shaped diamonds that offset each other. Yuri pointed his finger towards the same ring Otabek had just been admiring. 

“I like this one. It's pretty,” Yuri says quietly, leaning into Otabek. 

“I was just thinking that,” Otabek says, looking over at Yuri with a sense of adoration that he had never expressed before. 

“Let's get those,” Otabek decides, kissing Yuri's forehead. Yuri’s lips twitch into a smile that he wasn't aware of. 

Otabek paid the down payment for the rings, and they walk outside of the door to make their way to Mikhailovsky park. Otabek wraps his arm around Yuri’s waist, finding himself loving the idea of their engagement.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks so much for reading this, it seriously made my day to see that people enjoyed the last part to this fic.  
> super (not) sorry for the giant word dump/ inconsistency in word count in the parts. there will definitely be more to this fic, i'm writing it now (but i'm like 5% done so there might not be a part 3 tomorrow.) 
> 
> "i was rooting for you, we were all rooting for you," (did anyone get that reference?)
> 
> i was also wondering about writing a prologue to the last part where otabek crashes his motorcycle? if that's something you guys would want then let me know!


End file.
